


Without

by AuroraRebellion



Category: Fire Emblem: Shin Monshou no Nazo | Fire Emblem: New Mystery of the Emblem
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hi i love these two and needed more content for them, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Takes place after chapter 15 of New Mystery, Things were bad for a bit but it's gonna be ok i promise, Yeah Palla is here but for like 2 paragraphs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 12:02:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15533805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraRebellion/pseuds/AuroraRebellion
Summary: It's said actions speak louder than words.When Abel wakes up alone once again, he needs to hear Est is still there.





	Without

He drifts awake slowly, to silence and the chill of an empty bed at his side.  
There’s no noises from outside, of footsteps as someone passes by on patrol, or of people calling to one another as the camp begins to wake up.  
He wonders if the past day was really a dream. It honestly could have been. It felt like one.  
If it was a dream, he wants to go back to sleep. He wants to sleep and never wake up, if in his dreams everything can be made right again.  
Sleeping late invites trouble, though.  
He opens his eyes, and confusion washes over him.  
This isn’t a tent. This is- he’s in a proper bed, and he’s indoors, and-?  
He sits up and looks around. The barracks. He’s in the barracks, in Altea castle.  
Why is he here? If it was a dream…  
Maybe it doesn’t matter. He should get up.  
He doesn’t really want to, though. He misses Est, and that ache saps any motivation he might have to do anything. Nothing unusual there.  
Step one- sit up.  
He forces himself vaguely upright, tossing aside the blanket over himself and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.  
The floor is cold. He already wants to go back to bed and he hasn’t even gotten up.  
Step two- get out of bed.  
He doesn’t want to. He would rather just stare at the floor, like he is now. He could probably pass entirely too long doing nothing like this… Instead, he forces himself to look up, around at the room. The window is closed and the curtains drawn, but no sunlight leaks through the uncovered spaces to tell him that it’s really morning.  
Some part of him is annoyed by it, and wants to open the window, but his legs feel heavy and he has no desire to move.  
He’s stuck on the second of four. Sit up, get out of bed, get dressed, walk out of the room. It should be easy. It shouldn't be something he has to work so hard to do.  
All he’s doing is staring at the wall and he already feels tired.  
...Wow, talk about hopeless. He’s put under stressful conditions, and he loses the ability to function.  
The rough edge of his nail is beginning to bother him, as he presses his fingernails into the heel of his hand.

“You certainly haven't gotten too rusty,” Palla chuckles. “I’m not sure what you were worried about.”  
“But I still haven't been in action for a long time!” Est exclaims. “I can't afford to hold anyone back. So let’s go, one more round!”  
“Alright, but after this…”  
“After this, we take a break. I know.”  
Palla nods, seeming to be satisfied, and steps back into a ready stance. Est hefts her lance.  
“Ready?” She asks. Palla nods again, and she charges with a shout.  
Palla’s still faster than she is, and she gets her feet tangled as she twirls to avoid a blow, stumbling away. By the time she rights herself, the tip of Palla’s spear is resting against her breastplate.  
Palla smiles at her, in the closest she’ll ever get to a smug grin.  
“Checkmate,” she says, just like when she’s playing chess with Catria. Est sighs.  
“Okay, you win… I demand a rematch later, though!”  
“Later,” Palla says. “For now, go wash up.”  
Est salutes, and bounds away, setting her lance near the door as she goes.  
First stop, her room! She needs to get some clothes that are in better shape than her old, worn training clothes, to change into once she’s not all sweaty.  
The sky is growing lighter on the horizon, she notices as she glances out the window, and she wonders if Abel is awake.  
...She kind of hopes he’s still sleeping. Those shadows under his eyes worry her.  
Just in case he _is_ sleeping, she opens the door carefully and quietly steps into the room.  
Abel’s awake- or at least, he’s sitting up, but he doesn't seem focused. He’s staring blankly at the floor, not even looking down at his hands as he picks at one of his ragged fingernails.  
She frowns and steps over to him, taking his hand in hers.  
He recoils, and looks up at her with surprise written in his expression.  
...So it wasn't a dream. Or maybe this is still a dream, and he just hasn't woken up yet.  
“E-Est,” he stammers, “When did you-? Where…?”  
“I was training with Palla,” she says. “Sorry for leaving without telling you.”  
“It’s fine,” he replies.  
The way his grip tightens as she laces their fingers (-his are so, so rough, covered in scabs and half-healed cuts-) together tells her it isn't.  
“Are you sure?” She asks. He looks away, and the weight in her chest gets heavier.  
“I’m sure,” he says. It’s him that lets go, that pulls his hand back close to himself, and her hand feels cold without his. “You were going to go bathe, right?”  
“I was,” she says, “I was going to go get a change of clothes.”  
Abel hums, still not looking back to her.  
She leans in, putting one of her hands over his.  
“...Do you want me to stay?”  
He curls in on himself, just slightly, and turns his hand so that her palm is resting on his.  
“Please,” he whispers. “Just… just for a few minutes.”  
He’s so quiet, so open and so defenseless, and her chest tightens at the sheer trust he gives her, letting his guard down like this. If only she hadn't forced him to this point by her own weakness, if only she could have protected him…  
It’s too late to dwell on that, though.  
She sits down beside him on the bed and he leans in against her, resting his head on her shoulder and slipping his arms around her waist. She responds by putting her arms around his shoulders and pulling him close, pressing her lips against the top of his head as she does so.  
For a while, the only sound is his gentle breathing, in rhythm with the rise and fall of his shoulders, until he breaks the silence by speaking.  
“...Sorry,” he mumbles against her, “I know you have things to do, I just…” He takes a deep breath (she smells like a sea breeze and he realizes he forgot how much he loves that about her too), and hugs her a little tighter. “I needed to know you're here.”  
She wishes she could chase away the things that have shaken him so badly, soothe away the wounds his time on Archenea’s side has caused.  
“I’m here,” she says. “I won't leave. I promise.”  
He murmurs what sounds like a ‘thank you,’ and she hums in response.  
He seems so tired… She suspects that if she stays still for long enough, he’ll fall back asleep.  
Taking a bath can be put off for however long that takes, she decides.  
Right now, she’s here.  
She’s here, _Est_ is _here_ , and that’s all that matters.


End file.
